Scout's Revelation
by Argeon
Summary: After an unexpected ambush, the Scout is left devastated and reflects on his past. Loosely based off of "No on lives forever". Reviews very much appreciated!


The silence lurks around me as I breathe deeply and look at the ground. Beside me are several chairs that stretch out from each corner of the waiting room, eight in total if you don't count my stool. The lights irritated me last night, so I shot them out. All but one, that is. That's why it's so dark in this room. I reflect on what had happened the previous sleepless night. Horrible, just horrible. I don't even want to think back to what happened less than 24 hours ago on that battlefield. I feel the freshly-scarred memories coming back to me, so I stand up and walk towards the operating room. My head is still hung low, and I see a trail of blood leading up to the door. I scrunch my eyes closed and place my hands on the door. Sighing, I look back at the room. I recall that in this very room many months ago my friends and I were sitting and awaiting to get our heart replacements from the Medic, who accidentally later left his damn bird in me. Heh, I can't remember whether he ever got that bird outta me. It puts a little smile on my face, remember the good times I had with my team in this room. The Engineer's soothing guitar, the Demoman's pointless, yet amusing blabbering he did thanks to his drink, and whatnot. I still, however, can't seem to shake off the cloak of melancholy off of myself. It's apparent, but I try to deny it. My team is no longer a team.

I push the door open and immediately get a tear in my eye. It isn't my first one, but it certainly won't be my last one. There, in front of me, is the Sniper which I managed to save. He was barely alive, heavily wounded from behind. He's helpless on the old surgical table. Once more, the memories come back to me, but this time I can't resist to them. I was running towards the spawn, pulling the Sniper along with me on the dirt-ridden path to the spawn room. He groans loudly, with one of his hands being tightly grasped by me, and the other clenching his trusty sniper rifle. Behind the two of us we could hear screaming, bullets penetrating the wooden walls and people running around quickly, shuffling to safety and trying to avoid the ambush. I rushed into the spawn and quickly ran past the chairs and into the operating room. I stopped there and lifted the Sniper up with my adrenalinic energy and placed him on the operating table. His sniper rifle fell out of his hand at this point in time, but I don't care about it. I'm too nervous for a friend. He has his Holy Hunter slouch hat on, but I take it off and place it aside. I could tell he was bleeding out badly, even with his shirt on, so I took it off of him hastily and throw it aside. He looks at me with desperate eyes, as if he wants to say something but can't get it out of his mouth. I couldn't help but almost breakdown, but I carried on. I quickly picked up his sniper rifle and placed it beside the table, and looked for the Medic's Quick-fix which he kept in this room somewhere. I found it seconds later in the corner on one of the Medic's fancy machines. I immediately took it and placed it on the Medic's hanger thingy. I didn't know the terms to these things, nor did I fully understand their purpose fully, but I could recall how the Medic set those things up, and I repeated his actions step-by-step, even attaching the machine which keeps track of the heartbeats. The Sniper, still with his desperate expression, softened his gaze slightly and fell into a relaxing position. He didn't die, but he most likely lost consciousness. After staring at him for a while, I walked out into the waiting room, still hearing the noise in the distance. It disturbed me, along with lights. I shot those out quickly, and sat on a stool.

Jesus, the memory is horrifying, but I manage to shake it off. The sniper is still in the same position as he was before, but now his pulse was much slower. It seemed like the Quick-fix wasn't helping him out at all. The soft beeping of the machine slowly because fainter, until it stops completely. I put my head down once more, ashamed that I didn't rescue my friend and saddened by the fact that he was no longer with me. Just to think about about was hard. I sniffed and reach over to his hat. Placing it on his chest, I feel something in the flap of his hat. I pull it out and recognize it instantaneously. It's an old photo with some specks of blood on it of us together sitting in the Badlands. He's on the ground with his sniper rifle, and I'm beside him with my thumb up. Underneath it are the words:

_Happy campin'_

I dedicate a moment to the Sniper, wishing him a good afterlife if there was one. Hell, I don't know. I just want him to feel good again. After all, he was a great person. Kind, sociable, and smart. He didn't deserve to die this early in his life. It's not changable, though. It leaves me heart-broken, and I leave the room and walk outside. It's a grey day, but not cold. I shrug and proceed to walk into the wooden shack. That's where the ambush occurred yesterday. I really don't know what to expect in the room. It's quiet in there, but it might be decieving. It was yesterday.

I step inside and look around. I quickly glance everywhere, just to make sure that there are no enemies. Zero of them in here. My head than flips to the right to see a miserable sight in the corner. The Soldier is sitting against the wall in a small pool of blood with one of his arms cut off at the elbow beside him and the other pressing his helmet on his chest. He's barely breathing, so I rush towards him. I kneel beside him and raise my hand towards his. He slowly lifts it up and hold mine. He holds it weakly, though, which only makes me think that his life is nearly at an end too. The helmet gently falls from his chest unto his feet. I notice that it is cracked on the top, probably from a bullet. I look back at the soldier, who still has his eyes shut, and realize that the only reason why he is still alive is because that bullet didn't pierce his brains. I don't know, though, would've it been better if he would've been killed there instantaneously by the enemy, or is it better that he suffered all this time to see one of his teammates come to his side at the end of his life? My pondering is interrupted by this fingers wrappng around my hand and a slight tug from him. He opens his eyes and gazes at me, obviously relieved to see a friend nearby. From what I see, I think he's very surprised, but I don't blame 'im. I don't think I would've expected anybody to come to me had I been in his place. He tries to smile, but it hurts to. He pulls my hand to his coat and makes me reach inside of it. I fumble inside and feel something smooth in the midst of sweat and blood. I pull it out and see another photo. This one is smeared in blood at the side, and has a picture of us together down in Teufort. He's giving me a noogie, but in a joking way. Below the picture are the words:

_Brothers in arms_

I remember it perfectly. I look back at the soldier, who's still looking at me. He manages to smile at me, but then his hand slips off of mine, and he falls to his side, with a slight smile remaining on his face. I drop several tears, but I reassure myself that the Soldier died happily, with me at his side.

I walk on, away from the Soldier and out outside once more. I feel depressed from this. I honestly don't know if I'll ever get over it. I feel terrible. It's awful! I don't know what to say. I feel guilty. I was sitting along with them! Side by side! When they attacked us, I only saved the Sniper, while everyone else perished from the enemy. Even with that, the Sniper didn't survive. What's worse is that I probably will never find out anything about him. We never refered to each other by our names, but by our class. I'll never find out out who the Sniper was, who he had as a family. The same goes with the Soldier. The same goes for everyone on my team. It's all to hard to take in, so I stop and lean on the wooden wall. Sliding down, I cry. It's good to cry once in a while, especially in times like these.

I recompose myself shortly and continue walking. My face is still wet, and my eyes are reddened from the tears. I hope that the next teammate I see didn't suffer a horrendous fate like the Soldier did. I wish for the best.

I walk out on a small 'bridge', still in a melancholic state, and look down at the wood. I guess this is where the attackers came from. I think I heard them coming from over here last night. Maybe, maybe not. I hearing rustling to left so I turn my head around in hopes of finding another survivor. I nearly fall off the bridge in surprise. In front of was the Medic. My jaw drops as I examine him. Straight ahead of me, was the Medic impaled through the stomach. He seemed lifeless, floating there in midair. His legs and arms hung limp. I suddenly remember yesterday, when I was in the waiting room. I remember hearing a particularly loud agonizing screaming. I could've sworn it was the Medic back then, but I wasn't completely sure. Now I was unfortunely reassured of my assumptions. I just stand here devastated looking at him, my eyes wide and my mouth opened. The Medic opens his eyes slightly and I think that he saw me. He shakes a little. The surprise causes me to even draw my hand towards my mouth. It was clear that he was now looking at me with a terrified face. I keep standing there, dumbfounded at the sight of the Medic moving whilst being impaled. He moves his hand up and gives me a thumbs up. He even smiles a little! I still stand there, with the same expression. He reaches for his coat pocket and shuffles a little inside. With his last efforts, he throws something at me. Another photo, I would guess. I think they were planning on sharing them or something last night. Like a leaf in the Autumn wind, it flips and turns as it makes its way to the hard ground. The ground isn't too far down, so I jump from the bridge. I see that the photo landed near the pole, so I quickly bounce to it. I pick it up and recognize it. It's a picture of me with the Medic when I had my first examination done by him. I'm standing there with not shirt on, stubborn, and the medic is trying to give a shot. That examination, I recall, wasn't as bad as the picture made it look. Underneath, in my handwriting, I see what I wrote several months ago:

_#1 medic_

Yes, he was my favorite doctor I had ever had and he was a good person to be around. His jokes would make us laugh, his vivid stories about Europe and his accent would make everything much better and more interesting. I let out another sigh. Lifting my head up, I see the Medic once again. I don't know how much more of this I can handle. The Sniper's death was heart-achingly sad, the Soldier's death was equally the same, but this... This is too cruel to do to a de-licensed Doctor. I shake my head and begin to run. I just want to get it over with, I don't want to see any more of this madness. I keep running and running until I find myself out of breath. I'm not entirely sure whether I was doing laps right now, becaues I'm not that far away from where I was previously. Regardless, I'm glad to not see anyone else dead. I keep walking, trying to keep my mind off of my teammates. I realize one thing with all of this, however. I am a merc. I'm a murdering scumbag. I'm a pathetic excuse for a man. I'm a little brat who never thought twice about his actions. I suffered a tragedy losing my friends. Now what about my enemies? How would they feel had the same been done to them? I have killed many. How many lives have I devastated with my actions? I think too many. This isn't the way to go about life at all.

Never again shall I harm anyone.


End file.
